Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Colombia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Brass Construction to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Joyce Sims,
Groovy Waters,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Cowsills,
Cal Tjader,
The Fall,
Newcleus,
Slave,
Letta Mbulu,
Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Rapeman,
Interpol,
Wally Richardson,
R.M.O.,
Nas,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacques Brel,
The Neon Judgement,
Derrick May,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kerri Chandler,
John Holt,
Lucky Dragons,
Franke,
Sister Nancy,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fortunes,
Pussy Galore,
Bang On A Can,
Y Pants,
CMW,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
ABC,
The Move,
Suicide,
Minutemen,
Alice Coltrane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Frankie Knuckles,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lakeside,
Todd Terry,
the Human League,
Subhumans,
Lou Christie,
The Fire Engines,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Machine,
Brick,
Mo-Dettes,
Robert Görl,
Roger Hodgson,
EPMD,
Altered Images,
Reagan Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Doors,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.